


Can you imagine?

by RinAngel



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Banter, Crush at First Sight, Established Relationship, Lee Taeyong is the Best Boyfriend, Love at First Sight, M/M, Musician Kim Jungwoo, Mutual Pining, Polyamory, Soft Kim Jungwoo (NCT), coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26687362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinAngel/pseuds/RinAngel
Summary: Doyoung loves falling in love, it's exquisite every time. After all, who says all his love has to go to one person?Taeyong loves Doyoung, enough to help his boyfriend score all the love he needs. After all, as long as Doyoung loves him, who says a great love can't be shared?
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Kim Jungwoo, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Kim Jungwoo/Lee Taeyong, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	Can you imagine?

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally gonna be sad as fuck but I couldn't outline it perfectly, so here ya go, the fluffiest fluff I've written in some time! The song Jungwoo performs is [Imagine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7_rftpd0u0U) by Ariana Grande :3

It was hot that summer, and especially hot on the weekend of the Seoul Queer Culture Festival, but Doyoung barely felt it past the _glow_ he felt from everything else. Neo Cafe had been _booming_ that Saturday morning, regulars and newcomers alike, simply dressed college students standing among glammed-out drag queens and rainbow-bedazzled youth. There was a line nearly to the door, and their two baristas were hard at work by the espresso machine, while Doyoung’s boyfriend Taeyong manned the cash register with his ever-popular movie star smile.

Doyoung slipped artfully past Johnny with his full tray of cupcakes, opening the display case to refill the few empty trays inside— just for that weekend, nearly everything was frosted in rainbow, or dusted in multicolored sugar. It was a huge pain in the ass, just as hanging the giant-sized pride flag in the front window had been, but it was a labor of love. A few other restaurants displayed small flags, signs welcoming festival-goers right alongside the daily sales and specials, but as far as he knew, he and Taeyong ran the only _gay-owned_ business in the neighborhood, and that gave him an extra sense of responsibility. Their shop had to be _extra_ prideful. (It sounded cheesy, but really, all Doyoung had ever wanted was to be able to gush to _everyone_ he met about how much he loved Taeyong. He was proud of his boyfriend, of the near-perfect little life they’d built together against the odds. The idea of _pride_ meant a lot to him.)

When the worst of the crowd had thinned, and the line was dwindled down to just two, Taeyong stepped back to give Johnny and Jaehyun space to work while he wiped the sweat off his brow. “It’s ridiculous in here. We really need to get an AC next summer. How are things back in the kitchen, with all the ovens running?”

“Oh, you know. Hell on earth. Slowly giving myself carpal tunnel, one cupcake at a time.” Doyoung grinned despite himself, wiping his hands on his apron to remove the stray smudges of frosting. “Let’s go next door and grab lunch while we have a minute, and then I’ll help you cover the counter while Jaehyun and Johnny take a break.”

“Next door?” Taeyong repeated incredulously. “To Red Velvet Bistro? You want to support our competition today?”

“They have _real food_ there. I’ve been up making pastries since 6 AM, and now I just want a sandwich. Don’t deny me that,” Doyoung teased, giving Taeyong a playful swat on the arm. Giving Johnny a small wave and promising to return quickly, he led the way to the main doors, and took the first step out into the blazing sun.

Neo Cafe was on the main stretch through Sinchon, so they usually had bustling sidewalks outside of their store, but nothing like this. Music playing, merchant booths set up here and there, people in large and small groups talking, laughing, singing— it was enough to make Doyoung wish for the afternoon off, but he quickly let go of the idea. At the very least, a pride festival meant that he could hold Taeyong’s hand in public without a second thought, and so he did.

(He wasn’t a fan of PDA, but hand-holding was different. Taeyong’s hands made him feel safe, they always had.)

The bistro, similarly, was swarmed with customers— the tables were packed and several people were simply standing along the walls with their coffees, attention on the tiny stage towards the front of the restaurant. It was an open mic event, Doyoung realized with a twinge of jealousy. Neo Cafe just wasn’t a big enough venue for live music, but he’d always wished that they could have something like this. The boy onstage appeared college-aged, tall and lanky, sporting violet streaks in his black hair and holding an acoustic guitar with a rainbow pain-stakingly painted on the front.

“The line is so long!” Taeyong complained, giving Doyoung a nudge on the shoulder. “Want to go across the street? Get Vietnamese food or something?”

“No. It’s okay. I don’t mind waiting,” Doyoung replied quietly, eyes trained on the stage, on the man strumming the opening chords of a new song. He had a nice smile, a little lopsided, and big, doe-like eyes. He looked almost nervous, at first, but then he settled himself onto the single stool and he started to play.

 _“Knew you were perfect after the first kiss,_ _  
_ _Take a deep breath like, ooh,_ _  
_ _Feels like forever,_ _  
_ _Baby I never thought that it would be you.”_

It wasn’t the voice that Doyoung was expecting. He was tall, tan, looked like an athlete, but his voice was soft and pure and clear like a bell. Doyoung couldn’t understand all of the English lyrics, but he understood enough from the music itself. Doyoung had been a musician once, too, and music always had a tendency to make him _feel_ things.

Taeyong knew that. Sensed that, judging by the squeeze that he gave Doyoung’s hand. “His voice is nice.”

“Yeah,” Doyoung replied simply, dreamily. He didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to miss a moment.

 _“Imagine a world like that._ _  
_ _Imagine a world like that._ _  
_ _We go like up ‘til I’m ‘sleep on your chest,_ _  
_ _Love how my face fits so good in your neck,_ _  
_ _Why can’t you imagine a world like that?_   
Imagine a world...”

Doyoung forgot that there was a crowd, for a moment. Forgot that there was a stage. Forgot why he was there. The boy onstage was singing for him, _just_ for him, and it gave him goosebumps. _Imagine a world like that._ Oh, Doyoung nearly could.

“Babe, the line is moving. What do you want to order?” The tug of Taeyong’s hand pulled him out of his thoughts, and Doyoung blinked hard to refocus himself. _Fuck. I’m here with my boyfriend. I shouldn’t be thinking this way._ It made him feel guilty for a moment; anyone besides Taeyong and he would have felt even worse. They’d dated others, they were both secure enough in their relationship to have fun outside of it. But when Doyoung had been with Yuta, when Taeyong had been with Ten— it hadn’t felt like this before, enamored from the first breath. The boy onstage opened his eyes as he strummed the last notes of the song, beaming that winning smile out over the audience, and perhaps Doyoung was imagining it, but it felt like their gazes met.

His smile widened. Doyoung smiled back.

 _“Babe,”_ Taeyong’s whine pierced into Doyoung’s thoughts, snapping his attention back to his boyfriend at last. “You haven’t even looked at the menu!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Doyoung looked back to Taeyong, offering an apologetic smile, and they came forward to place their orders. Taeyong paid, but as they stepped to the side to wait, he poked Doyoung playfully in the ribs.

“He’s pretty cute. Wanna stay ‘til his set is over so you can talk to him?”

“What?” Doyoung tried to sound incredulous, like Taeyong was suggesting something crazy. It _was_ kind of crazy. Taeyong was the one who talked to cute guys at bars and flirted with the occasional customer. Approaching an attractive stranger was never something that Doyoung would have the guts to do. “No. I just— his voice. It’s really good. Really different. It’s nothing like that.”

“Uh-huh. Right.”

“He’s probably not even gay.”

“He’s performing at Pride! And, I’m sorry, but _look at him.”_

“I’m _not_ talking to him,” Doyoung said firmly, forcing his eyes away from the stage and forcing his attention down to his phone. “Haven’t heard from Johnny or Jaehyun. Do you think they’re swamped again, or do you think it’s totally dead and they don’t need us?”

“Excuse me,” Taeyong gave that winning smile of his to the young lady behind the counter. “Do you have a pen I could borrow for a moment?” She passed it over quickly before turning to help the next customer, and Taeyong snatched up a napkin from near the condiment dispensers. He leaned against the wall to jot something down in his small, messy writing. “Wait for our order, okay? I’ll be right back.”

_“Taeyong—”_

“Relax, will you?”

Doyoung couldn’t relax, but he also couldn’t bring himself to stop Taeyong, either. His heart was racing as the man onstage finished a second song before stepping down, guitar still hanging by its strap from his shoulders. There was a table towards the back that seemed to be waiting for him, a few young guys who were clapping and cheering louder than anybody else— but Taeyong intercepted him just before he got there, bowing his head politely in greeting and handing him the note he’d written. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ Doyoung couldn’t watch. He turned back to the counter, his cheeks burning with a vengeance as he waited; the server who brought out their bagged order seemed to take note, and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but he only thanked her and tried to look normal as he grabbed the food and went to wait for Taeyong outside.

Taeyong wore a smug smile as he emerged a few seconds later. “He _was_ cute. Normally I question your taste, but—”

“I fell for _you,_ didn’t I?” Doyoung shot back.

“Well, this one seemed really pure,” Taeyong went on, shrugging. “Aren’t you curious about him? You’re not going to ask me his name?”

Doyoung tensed, trying to hide the delicious little shiver that shot up his spine at the opportunity. “What is it?” he nearly demanded.

“I dunno. I didn’t ask,” Taeyong revealed with a wide grin, stepping wide to avoid Doyoung’s playful punch to the arm. “But maybe you’ll have a chance to ask him yourself later! And then you can tell _me_ what it is when you thank me and tell me how right I was!” When he came close again, he took Doyoung’s free hand before he could retaliate, and he brought it to his mouth to kiss his knuckles. It caught Doyoung by surprise— _but we can do this, at least for now. I can be proud of what I have: a relationship with someone who wants me to be happy at any cost._

So Doyoung followed instinct, and yanked Taeyong forward for a kiss on the lips, right there on the sidewalk. It was sweet, but breathtakingly passionate, and most importantly, it was completely shameless.

//

Doyoung had nearly forgotten about the exchange by the time that Jaehyun and Johnny left for the afternoon. It had begun to rain outside, which brought a sudden rush of business as patrons hurried inside to take shelter; when there was a lull, Taeyong gave Doyoung a nudge and announced, “I’m going to go back and do the dishes. Yell for me if it gets too crazy up here, okay?”

Doyoung pouted a little. Taeyong was the one who drew customers in with his handsome face and his talent for small talk; Doyoung, by contrast, was much more comfortable hiding in the kitchen, baking and cleaning. “I can do the dishes! Don’t leave me alone!”

“You’ve been back in the kitchen all day! Give your poor hands a rest,” Taeyong protested, giving him a goofy sort of grin. “I’ll be quick. I promise.”

“Hmph.” Doyoung couldn’t argue with that, really. Besides, the kitchen was even hotter than the shop front, so— on second thought, he’d let Taeyong enjoy the sauna back there. Without much else to do, he turned his attention to cleaning the espresso machine.

The bell on the front door chimed. Doyoung took a deep breath, plastered on his best customer service smile— and just about imploded when he stepped out from behind the coffee machine to see a tall, handsome man with wide doe eyes and a guitar case on his back. His black hair was damp with rain, and there were little gray smudges of wet eyeliner beneath his eyes— _but he’s just as beautiful as his voice. Oh god, what did Taeyong say to him?!_

The man smiled that lopsided smile as he approached, his perfectly imperfect teeth just as cute as the rest of him. Doyoung could feel himself blushing, but all he could do was be casual, keep it together, _hopefully._ “Welcome to Neo Cafe!” he greeted brightly, wiping his hands clean on his apron. “How can I help you?”

“Um…” The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a rain-flecked, crumpled napkin, and the sight made Doyoung’s heart jump. “I’m not sure if you’d honor this, but… it was given to me earlier today.” He smoothed out the napkin and passed it across the counter, pulling back quickly, as though too shy to let their fingers brush.

_“At Neo Cafe (next door), this certificate is good for one free drink, as long as the bearer chats up the cute barista with the black hair.”_

“God. _God._ Ah—” Doyoung laughed nervously, unable to resist the impulse to hide his face behind his hands. “I’m sorry. This was all my boyfriend’s idea, honestly. I hope he didn’t make you uncomfortable, I— I _didn’t_ tell him to do this, I swear. But, um… what would you like to drink?”

“Truthfully? I don’t drink coffee,” he admitted with a nervous little laugh. “I was just— um— I saw the two of you together, but I didn’t know he was your _boyfriend…”_

 _He came just to talk to me. He saw me, and he came to talk to me._ That simple fact made Doyoung’s heart beat double-time, and it was all he could do not to run back into the kitchen and scream. “W-We— we have, like, an open… thing. Not exclusive. And he saw that I was looking at you, and— I’m really shy with boys…”

“So, wait. Did you or did you _not_ want me to come talk to you? I’m confused.” He giggled softly, and Doyoung _swore,_ he was going to die.

“I mean, I’m certainly not complaining that I get to look at you up close now.” Doyoung couldn’t look directly into his eyes, lest he risk a heart attack. Needing a distraction, he opened the fridge, grabbed the earl grey cold brew and milk. “My name’s Kim Doyoung. What’s yours…?”

“I’m Kim Jungwoo.” He leaned on the counter slightly to watch Doyoung work— observing with amusement, “You’re _very_ red right now. It’s cute.”

“Thank… you?” Doyoung willed himself to stop blushing, anyway— which did nothing, of course. _Focus._ Ice, tea, milk, a shot of sweet vanilla syrup; he stirred everything together in a plastic cup and topped it off with a generous dollop of whipped cream. “Uh— if you don’t like coffee, try this. It’s called a London fog. And— here.” He slid open the pastry display and grabbed one of the rainbow-sugar-dusted cupcakes to serve him alongside. “I made these this morning. It’s on the house.”

“Oh… thanks!” Jungwoo seemed genuinely surprised; he took the drink in his hands, though he didn’t grab a straw, only tapping his fingers nervously on the sides of the cup. “So… what is it with you and your boyfriend? Are you just looking for a third? For like… hook-up stuff?” Suddenly, it was Jungwoo’s turn to blush, and Doyoung found it so endearing, how he dropped his voice to a discreet whisper to avoid being overheard. “I’m going to be honest: I’m interested in you, but I’m not interested in hook-ups.”

Doyoung’s relationship with Yuta had been forged in sex, but somewhere along the way, it had been more— and before Yuta had broke things off by going back to Osaka, there had been some amazing nights, the three of them. Curled up on the couch, Doyoung’s head on Yuta’s shoulder, Taeyong’s head in Doyoung’s lap; watching movies, chatting about anything, occasionally defending himself from one or the other of his boyfriends joking about how loud he was in bed. There had been an uncommon ease to it, something that Doyoung knew would be hard to find again. But even so, he had a good feeling about Jungwoo.

“I’m not looking to hook up, either,” Doyoung promised, smiling softly in reassurance. He took a business card this time, not a napkin, something that would last, and he scribbled his cell phone number on the back. “I guess we have… too much love between us for just the two of us, you’d say. I’d really like to talk to you more. He might like that, too.”

“I’d— _love_ that.” Jungwoo was such a mess, Doyoung could tell, but he was holding it together admirably well. “You’re not here by yourself, are you? This cupcake is huge. You should come share it with me, if you have time…”

“Uh— yeah! Just let me go grab my boyfriend from the kitchen. You know, since this is his fault.” Doyoung was grinning like a fool, taking a moment to watch Jungwoo select the table closest to the window. He looked so sweet, buzzing with excitement, unable to keep from peeking over at Doyoung to see if he was following. Doyoung tried to keep it cool, setting up the “be right back” sign at the front counter and hurrying back to the swinging kitchen door.

 _“Jagiya,_ come watch the front! I have a date!”

“Yay! I was hoping you would!” Taeyong gave his soapy hands a rinse and dry, stealing a kiss in the moment that he could.

“I’m going to fucking kill you when we get home. He’s— so _unreasonably hot_ up close.”

“Aww. You must really like him, then?”

“He’s _lovely._ His name’s Jungwoo.” Doyoung took a kiss himself, feeling Taeyong grin beneath his lips.

“You’re welcome, babe.”

“I’m _still_ going to kill you.” By this point, Doyoung was grinning too, and when they stepped back out onto the cafe floor, he heard Taeyong gasp behind him.

“Shit, he _is._ Have fun. Introduce me properly before he leaves, will you?”

Jungwoo smiled, cheeks glowing modestly against his tan. His hair frizzed from the rain, make-up smudged under his eyes— and yet, Doyoung had butterflies in his stomach comparable to his first date with Taeyong.

“Yeah. Don’t worry, I will.”


End file.
